Chicano Poet

Monday, November 18, 2013

After Neruda

Tonight I can write the saddest lies
she loved me sometimes and I loved her too
that's not the lie

the lie is that I'm not to blame for losing her
for losing her love
nights I held her in my unfaithful arms
my own arms reproached me
my own heart disgusted with me
only my lust seemed to acquiesce
tonight I can write the saddest lies.


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